


compare, contrast, coincidence

by scornandivory



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dogs, M/M, cannibalistic domestic bliss, just a whole lot of dogs, no gods no kings no betas, plague 2020, the maddening process of dog comparisons over zoom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scornandivory/pseuds/scornandivory
Summary: School being moved online reveals that Professor Graham and Dr. Lecter both have dogs. Actually, they have weirdly similar looking dogs.Alternatively, Maddie wanted a fic based offthis tweet.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 32
Kudos: 569





	compare, contrast, coincidence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaddieContrary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieContrary/gifts).



> For Maddie, who had a birthday, whether she wants it or not.

The fact that Professor Graham has a collection of dogs that occasionally wander through the background during Zoom calls surprises no one. He’s always had the look of someone who would be happiest living in a cave in a national park somewhere, communing with no one but the animals of the forest. Since life under capitalism makes that sort of life goal nigh unattainable, he looks like the kind of guy who’s backup plan would be to adopt every animal he could. It’s kind of funny how he’s the most popular he’s ever been with the student body; all it took was a slightly grainy camera feed to offset his weird intensity and a couple really cute dogs to come up and lovingly prop their chins up on him during class. The strangest thing about it all, really, is how he decorates his house. It’s not that his students expected him to _actually_ live in a lean-to made out of failed papers and flannel but the fact that his house is decorated like he’s a Gothic Romantic who’s really into Japan kinda came out of left field. 

Meanwhile, the students in the physiology course Dr. Lecter has graciously offered to teach during the turmoil of going completely online were having the opposite problem. Like, _of course_ the guy who dressed like a flamboyant vampire was going to have an ominous shipwreck painting in the backdrop, _obviously_ that was going to be the case, but the dogs threw people off. The first time it was...well, humanizing more than anything else. Sure, this guy was a probably-millionaire who managed to make paisley vaguely threatening and was prone to launching into dialectics about the weirdest shit, but hey! He’s got a dog! And the dog seems to actually like him! And then students started realizing that it wasn’t _a_ dog but in fact many dogs. A plethora of pups. The class’s group chat had a running count that landed on six, with the potential for a seventh dog that Cameron swore she could hear in the background sometimes. Six-maybe-seven dogs honestly brought Dr. Lecter back around into eccentricity. Why did he need that many dogs? Was it a European thing? Was his next step to forego his car in favor of being pulled around by a team of dogs? The last one got nixed because, and only because, it was unanimously decided that if Dr. Lecter _did_ get a dog pack to ferry him to and fro from his various goings-on they would all be the same breed, most likely purebred, and they would be named shit like “Beatrice” or “Mnemosyne” or “Aristotle’s _On Sophistical Refutations._ ” 

It comes to a head when Alex J. sends the Lecter group chat a message reading “HLOY SHIT????????” with an image attached. Specifically, an image of a man who is certainly not Dr. Lecter with Winston, the clear frontrunner of the Goodest Boy poll with only two hours remaining before voting ends, in the background. The mystery man turns out not to be a mystery—half the class has either taken something with Professor Graham before or held a weeping friend during final exams and listened to them curse his name well into the uncaring night. The groupchat expands significantly with various students from Graham’s classes getting pulled into what is increasingly becoming a maelstrom of speculation. Decoration styles from the two Zoom backgrounds are compared. Wall colors are compared. Dogs are fussed over, cooed about, and compared. The evidence is damning; the fervor, mounting. But still a wall is come to: short of breaking into their houses (house?), how would the truth ever be known?

And were it not for the bravery of a single student, the question might forever have rested in the uneasy grave of uncertainty. Two weeks of the group chat pulling its collective hair out trying to figure out if what everyone thinks is happening is actually happening later, after Dr. Lecter asks the class if they have any final questions for the night, Clarissa mutters “Valhalla, I’m coming” and downs a shot of Absolut before unmuting her mic and in her best teacher’s pet voice saying, “hey, yeah, this isn’t class related so sorry if it’s, like, inappropriate, but I was wondering how you ended up with all your dogs?” The combined group chat immediately explodes, students currently in the class either saluting Clarissa’s bravery or screaming about her hubris and students from Graham’s class jumping in to ask what the fuck is happening. Dr. Lecter, unaware of the flurry of activity he is causing in the digital realm, just smiles. “They’re my husband’s. When we moved in together, they came with him.” 

“Aw,” Clarissa says because she has nerves of steel and a personality that renders her fundamentally incapable of giving up while she’s ahead. “That’s so cute! I’ve always kind of worried about relationships, what with the whole, you know, government spook thing, so it’s good to know there’s still hope.”

The group chat is currently in the process of planning meal delivery to Clarissa’s soon-to-be-grieving parents. 

“Oh,” Dr. Lecter says with a chuckle, “it helps when you’re both in the same career path. Or at least, careers that are similar enough that you can understand each other. Will and I were very fortunate in that regard. Now, does anyone have any questions _on this or next week’s readings?”_ It might just be the camera or light coming off his computer screen, but it really looks like his eyes are sparkling. No one has any questions. No one can even think about the readings. 

Within a week, the entire student body knows. No one is suicidal enough to actually approach Will and say anything about it, but there’s a certain new tension in his classes. There’s also the distinct sense that his students like him more now, which disgruntles him. Hannibal, on the other hand, is insufferably pleased with himself. 

“You could have just pissed in a circle around me,” Will grumbles at him over dinner. “It would have had the same effect and the gossip might actually be interesting.”

Hannibal refuses to rise to the bait that Will’s crassness is because he’s the worst. “My apologies,” he says smoothly. Will glares at him. Hannibal smiles back. 

“You’re in the guest bedroom for the next year,” Will tells him. Hannibal, knowing this is an empty threat, only smiles wider. 


End file.
